The Mystery of the Phantom Sound
by moonlessmondays
Summary: There is a phantom sound that disturbs the quiet of the night, a rhythmic thumping that no one can tell what, that is until one night, the mystery is solved. OQ. Missing year.


**So, I don't even know how this happened or where it came from, don't ask me. But I do guess it sprung out from a twitter conversation and review on my other fic** ** _Let's Play a Game_** **. So there. It's been so much fun to write missing year fics.**

 **Mel, dis faw u. Surprise? Now update your fic.**

 **On with the show!**

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It is strange—a very strange thing.

She can't sleep.

And it's not because of some winged beast or some green witch trying to destroy her and her family and everyone in the castle. Nor is it the thought of being separated from her daughter and grandson (though that too keeps her awake most of the time). But actually, it's a very strange sound that keeps her up at night, makes her wonder what it is, makes her want to get up, crawl out of her husband's embrace and roam the halls of the large castle. It makes her want to go and investigate. And she would have, had there not been a threat of flying monkeys possibly swarming around the castle at any given time, she would have.

But, as it is, she can't—and so she settles for idle curiosity, and lip gnawing, and restless nights wondering what the hell is that sound and where the hell it's coming from.

It always is a thumping—sometimes frantic, sometimes slow and soft, but it's rhythmic— _thump, thump, thump._

She doesn't really know what to make of it.

It seems, however, that it isn't just her who hears this strange sound, the whole of the South wing of the castle does, too—granted, it is only but a few: just herself, Belle, and Neal or Bealfire, whichever he prefers to be called these days (she supposes her Charming husband would have heard it, too, only, he's always far too deep in sleep that he doesn't hear anything once he's conked out), but she's not the only one.

"I've heard it, too," Belle admits to her with a shake of her head. "I don't know what it is, or where it's coming from, but I've heard it, too." She pauses and bites her lip, looking thoughtful for a moment. "It sounds like a concrete bumping on a concrete, then sometimes, it sounds like squeaking."

"It varies," Neal agrees with a nod. "Sometimes, it's squeaking, sometimes it's loud thumping, it's never really consistent—except, it's consistently there every night, I suppose."

She agrees with both of them, and expresses herself with a nod, but really, that doesn't answer anything. It doesn't solve the mystery, and God, does she want nothing more than to find out what it is (except, perhaps, reunite with her daughter and grandson, but that's a different story entirely).

When she asks Granny or Ruby or any of the dwarves, they tell her that they don't know what she's talking about, there's never been any disturbance. And that, to her, is just plain strange. Why is the strange sound only heard in the South and not the East wing of the castle?

She wants to ask the Merry Men or Robin, but she doesn't want to alarm them, in case it turns out to be nothing (it only starts at the late hours of the night). It _has_ been going on for a few weeks now, granted, but nothing has happened yet, and she really shouldn't be making mountains out of mole hills—she should rally the people, give them hope, not scare them over a phantom sound.

"Do you think there's some kind of ghost?" she asks her husband, instead, as they settle down in bed one night, when she opens up the disturbing thumping again. "And it's making that weird sound? Do you think the south wing is haunted?"

Charming pauses from climbing into the bed to look at her in surprise. He shakes his head and sighs. "This has been bothering you or so long," he comments unnecessarily.

She gives him a pointed look. "That does not answer my question," she tells him.

Charming sighs once more. "No, I don't think this wing is haunted, Snow," he says. "But if you want to find out what it is, maybe you should ask Regina for help."

Snow nods. She thinks that it's a great idea.

She does ask Regina about it, as her husband's suggestion (she knew he has a great brain there in his pretty head), one morning during breakfast. And the queen's reply has been dismissive, something typical of her, telling Snow that it's nothing and she's spooking herself out for no reason. But she frowns and says that she should really investigate, and could Regina help, please?

"Don't be ridiculous," Regina says haughtily with a toss of her long ebony hair. It's back to what it used to be, and she thinks that Regina looks great, looks less like _MILF_ , though still entirely enticing—not that she has those kinds of thoughts about her former step-mother. "It's nothing. You're just being a baby."

"I'm not," she insists with a frown. "There really is that strange sound, like a thumping sound, and I'm not the only one who's heard it. The whole South wing's heard it."

The queen's eyes widen, and then she's frowning, her forehead creasing and her lips pursing. "And the others? Have they heard it, too?" Regina asks seriously, finally.

"Well, not the east wing—no," she confesses still with a frown on her own lips. "I haven't asked the Merry men or the black guards…I could, if you want me to." She thinks that Regina is finally getting interested, and that's great—they're bound to find out sooner what it is, if Regina is in the investigation team, too.

"I'll handle it," Regina says after a long pause, and her voice says that there is no room for argument.

She nods and says nothing but a simple thank you. She thinks that her mind would at last be at peace, and she can finally sleep.

She does, for a few days and she thinks that whatever it is, Regina's really handled it. She doesn't doubt Regina, never has, and on the fourth night since talking to Regina about it, she thinks that she's finally rid of that phantom sound.

But such is not the case as, on that night as her husband sleeps deeply beside her and she rests her head on her pillow with a smile—thinking that he's right, there is no ghost, no flying monkeys either, maybe just some strange animal or a window left open that's banging against the wall because of the wind—she hears it again.

She hears that god-awful sound of a thumping, like something bumping against each other. She sighs, gives one look at her husband and then she's climbing down the bed and padding out of the room to investigate. She grabs her husband's sword before she leaves however, just in case.

She follows the sound, lets it lead her across the halls. The thumping is getting louder, and it's accompanied by one mewl (more like a soft scream really), and maybe, David is wrong and there _is_ a ghost. Tightening her hold on the sword in her hands, she follows the sound and she finds herself a room away from the queen's chambers. Her first thought is of Regina, maybe someone is hurting her?

But upon closer inspection, she finds that the Queen's room is dead quiet, and she's probably asleep. Snow breathes a sigh of relief, relieved that Regina's probably okay, but irritated just as well that the sound does not stop, only intensifies. She narrows her eyes and all but drags her feet across the carpeted floor, stumbling a bit against the darkness (there are lights, but they are dim, and God does she miss Storybrooke and all its modern comforts).

She stops at a vacant room, the place where the sound is the loudest. The door is slightly open, and she pushes the door more open, ready to go in there and slay whatever atrocity is in there, but Lord help her, she wishes she never have.

What meets her eyes is something she never ever, _ever,_ wishes to see ever again in her life. It is definitely not something she's ever thought she'd see.

It is the image of the queen, her back against the wall, buck naked, and legs wrapped around an equally naked Robin, who hoists her up against his waist, his little Robin (though if Regina's screams and wails are anything to go by, is _not_ little _at all)_ thrusting inside the Queen. He takes the Queen fast and hard, but shockingly not enough for Regina as she begs for more, and more, and _more_ (God, what is she made of?).

The thief obliges, thrusts against her harder and faster, and why the hell is Snow still standing there, not doing anything—perhaps like leaving?

But Snow can't fucking move, stays rooted to the ground, her jaw dropping, probably to the floor by now.

"Robin, more," the Queen rasps, and then Robin is letting her legs go for a fraction of a second, before he is turning her around, and he starts thrusting against her from behind.

Their gasps and moans are matched only by the rhythmic thumping against the wall, and that is when Snow realizes what she hasn't before.

Her eyes widen.

Snow blushes like a tomato, and in a second she snaps out of it and she walks out of the room, and makes a mad dash down the halls to her bedroom—thank God she's no longer ten and she's not scarred for life.

That is not something she wants to relive, she realizes.

But at least she's solved the mystery of the phantom sound.

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 **A/N: I think I'm going to start writing prompted one shots, if anyone wants me to write them. You can send me prompts here, or on my twitter or tumblr (links are on my profile). I hope you enjoyed that** ** _crack! fic_** **and let me know what you guys think! :)**


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